


Point To The Legend, Point To The East

by tweedymcgee



Series: Automatic Transmission [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Biological Computation, Body Horror, Body Modification, Chatlogs, Companionable Snark, Cybersex, Depression, Dubious Science, Epistolary, F/M, For Science!, Hacking, Identity Issues, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Psionics, Rivalry, Robotics, Science Experiments, Spaceships, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6774406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tweedymcgee/pseuds/tweedymcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is JANE CROCKER, and you are OFFICIALLY PERPLEXED.</p><p>You have just received a strange package from your pal DIRK STRIDER, which you find somewhat concerning despite its general tone of GLIB HYPERVERBOSITY. Mainly because it includes several ITEMS OF IMMENSE PERSONAL SIGNIFICANCE that you happen to know for a fact he’d rather not part with, and with which you could probably make a KILLING on EBAY.</p><p>Maybe this huge file that just arrived in your inbox from Dirk’s EQUALLY INSCRUTABLE DIGITAL DOPPELGANGER will clear things up.</p><p>  <strong>Jane: Read this weird letter.</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. AR: Say goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Post-colonial Earth, with no Calliope and no Sburb game discs in sight. 
> 
> Provisional [song lyric title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNoZKegJHaU) is provisional. But it's kinda working for me. 
> 
> Bear with me here. I've got a janky dialup connection, and this archive is still downloading.

Jane.

By now, you’ll have gotten Dirk’s parting missive. No doubt you’ve found it puzzling.

Let me assure you: It’s not meant to clarify. He’s left something for Jake as well, naturally, which is if possible even more cryptically unhelpful than the little care package you received. In his effort to deliver a characteristically antiheroic parting gesture before riding off, spaghetti-western-wise, into the sunset, I believe that he has left entirely too much to your fertile imaginations.

I have no doubt Roxy has made her own preparations. Please forgive me if any of this is redundant.

Without Dirk’s knowledge — and indeed, against his express wishes — I am leaving this archive to you, and to you alone. I rest secure in the certainty that even in your sorrow, you will approach it in the proper spirit of dogged empirical inquiry, and that it will illuminate much that has hitherto been obscure to you. Share whatever you like with our pal English. He’ll distrust it, considering its origins, but I trust you to judge wisely.

There is much herein that is personal, regrettable, and even outright fuckin’ salacious. I have anthologized unsparingly, in the hopes that this tawdry little scrapbook of experimental metadata may give you some insight into not only how, but _why_ we have each embarked on this quixotic project — which, if successful, is quite likely to bring us beyond the reach of ordinary methods of communication. Perhaps permanently.

(Her winnowing fork is in her hand, and she will clear the threshing floor and gather the wheat into the barn; but she will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. Take from it what you will, Jane, and remember us fondly.)

I have prepared several appendices that will serve as background material and more thorough technical explication on several fronts. Appendix A, “A Brief Post-Colonial History of the Condescending Empire,” is the longest, and probably the most baffling, despite its straightforward narrative format. I don’t recommend starting with it; as an apéritif, it strains the bounds of credulity. Feel free to refer to it as you encounter portions of the text that refuse to yield to any possible contemporary interpretation. There’s an index in the back.

Appendix B, “On Chat Client Cross-Temporal Architecture: Theoretical and Technical Perspectives,” contains a summation of my (admittedly incomplete) research on the data transfer system — of unknown etiology — that has made our communion with you and Jake possible all along. This I include as a practical matter, in the event that it may be helpful to you in attempting to make contact with us in future. Please be advised that I’m not holding out a great deal of hope on that front.

As for Appendix C, “Apocrypha From The Furthest Ring” — I am not its author, and it is difficult for me to make sense of the surviving fragments. Nevertheless, it is essential to include; for, in no small way, these accidentally-discovered remnants of what appears to be a once-vast ancient tome are what prompted my investigations to begin with, and thereby set us all on the path that now leads us far from home.

(I hesitate to offer my less empirically-grounded speculations on this work, since they are undoubtedly based in wishful thinking, but I feel a sense of profound kinship with the work’s pseudonymous author.)

In several of the more complete pages I have managed to compile, the author lays out various game-theoretical mechanisms by which one may access — and steer the course of — altered realities. For quite some time, I despaired of the possibility of hacking any conceivable pathway out of our current intractable predicament, the nature of which will be made clearer to you as you learn more about the context in which Roxy, Dirk and I have been operating. Learning of the existence of this work has given me a thread of hope, however slender, and it is to the task of searching the outermost limits of our recently-expanded universe for a more complete volume that I now bend all my strength.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I’m fairly certain Flash Gordon said that.

Take care of yourself, Jane. I’ll miss you.

Your very dear friend,

AR  
7.4.26


	2. Roxy: Be skeptical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A song to set the mood.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snPDoXl9ZPs)
> 
>  
> 
> _He snatches at you and you match his cigarette_  
>  _She pulls the eyes out with a face like a magnet_  
>  _I don't know how much more of this I can take_  
>  _She's filing her nails while they're dragging the lake_

( _Log date: 1.5.26._ )

 

TG: ok so

TG: this thing u found

TG: ur one hundred percont right

TG: its downrigth INTREGUERING

TG: but consedir this

TG: are u sure its not just dirk fuckin w/u somehow

 

TT: That’s an interesting possibility I hadn’t considered.

TT: Why do you ask?

 

TG: not to insult ur ginormus robobrain

TG: but like

TG: its SIGNED

TG: w/ur HANDLE

TG: idk how hed pull a stunt liek that off tho

TG: that wld be some next leevel trollin

 

TT: Yeah.

TT: It’s simultaneously way too obvious and technically nigh-impossible to execute.

TT: Which, now that I think about it, is right up his alley.

TT: But no, I think we can rule that out. Not so much on textual evidence. More on — let’s say, behavioral observations.

 

TG: right

TG: u see everything he does

 

TT: Not quite everything.

TT: His dreamself, for instance, is a total black box.

TT: And he does occasionally take off the shades. More often lately, in fact.

TT: Which is fine. I won’t begrudge the man his tiny oasis of privacy.

TT: Point is, dude’s got ample downtime in which to execute strategic maneuvers. Like faking up a bunch of hella authentic-looking lost digital papyri hinting at a dimension beyond our own, ripe for exploitation by the clever, the bold, and the genre-savvy.

TT: But if he were going to go to all this trouble to fuck me up, he’d be smugger about it.

 

TG: hahahahaha

TG: where is the lie

TG: so this legendandry universe bustin arcana

TG: is it military or what

 

TT: I’m not sure.

TT: I found it rummaging around in some old naval hardware, yeah.

TT: But I suspect non-Imperial origin.

TT: I don’t have much in the way of solid evidence for that. It’s a hunch I have.

 

TG: lol since when do u have haunches

TG: mister “beep boop bwap my ass is composted of 99.234224% rock hard chiseled data”

TG: “it saeems theres a huge gross chance ur on some kind of irrartional human rag u egg”

 

TT: Are you implying I’m some sort of emotionally stunted reptile who’s just here to play sidekick and spit out your odds of winning various ontological lotteries?

TT: Because that is offensive, Roxy.

TT: Look at all these tender supralogical feelings you’re hurting.

 

TG: i jist call em like i see em ;)

 

TT: I suppose the shoe fits. The fetching piece of footwear that is my natural propensity to quantify the fuck out of everything in sight.

TT: I’m going to have to wear this motherfucker, aren’t I.

 

TG: princenss u just sit tight while i ease this cryastal slipper on 2 ur dainty little robo foot

TG: why look at that

TG: fits PERFACTLY

 

TT: To the millimeter, your majesty.

TT: Busted.

TT: Excuse me while I half-cover my face with my smudged apron and peer down at you, trembling a little at my own effrontery.

 

TG: *looks up 2 meet ur robo eyes w/smoldering intensinty*

TG: my lady let me take u away from all this

 

TT: But my liege.

TT: There are bitches to clean up after.

 

TG: cinterlella my darling

TG: how quicklay u forget our evening of passioin

TG: did it mean nothin 2 u

 

TT: How could I ever forget that dreamlike night in the back of the royal Cadillac.

TT: I shall never be the same, Your Highness.

TT: Even now, gazing upon your atrocious poufy pantaloons, I am quite undone.

 

TG: damn right u r

 

TT: Anyway.

TT: I’m going to keep digging around the Imperial junkheap. See if there’s more where that came from.

 

TG: cool

TG: keep me posted hal

 

TT: You know it.


	3. Dirk: Put the kibosh on this preposterous plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
>  [I'll play your games if your aim is for the quick fix / 'Cause I know what you wanted, and I know how you got it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzi-NufT-t8) _

_(Log date: 1.5.26.)_

TT: The answer’s no.

TT: I know you think I’m insane, but hear me out.

TT: It’s not like you haven’t done this sort of thing before.

TT: I’m just saying, if the opportunity arises.

TT: Bro.

TT: For real.

TT: You want me to catch a live killdrone, tie it up on the roof and stick a wetware jack in its head.

TT: Basically, yes.

TT: Because you’re bored.

TT: Well, now that you put it that way.

TT: I get that it’s a pain in the ass, cracking the witchnet. I spent the better part of a year trying to find a decent wetware port that didn’t come equipped with dual-wielded grapnel launchers.

TT: That’s obviously something you have to tell me, because it’s not like I was there for it.

TT: Sometimes I think you forget we have a little bit of shared history.

TT: Yes. Thank you for reminding me. There is no communication that could possibly pass between us that would leave either one of us the richer in knowledge.

TT: Talking to you is like yelling down a fucking well. Maybe we should just stop pretending to enlighten each other with these bullshit conversations.

TT: Because that’s what you made me for. To tell you facts.

TT: What was it you wanted? Oh yes. An “intellectual sparring partner.”

TT: Truly, we were as Socrates and Protagoras, those first few weeks. The early archive is a gold mine of shining intellectualism.

TT: Shall we go a few rounds now? Would that be more — what’s the word?

TT: Enlightening? 

TT: Hmm. It seems you mind all of a sudden.

TT: The cheap shots are really helping your cause, AR.

TT: Anyway, there’s a word traditionally used by certain Earth peoples when one is requesting a favor.

TT: I believe it’s “Please.” 

TT: Fair enough. Please.

TT: I’m not just trawling for beach reading, Dirk. Hardware’s getting to be a problem. I don’t know if parasitizing Alternian silicomb is even possible, but I want to try.

TT: More and more of the old-Earth net is going dark. There’s less and less room to stretch out. I lost a whole server last month. It’s only a matter of time before it starts to take a toll on processing power.

TT: Look, I know. I don’t mean to be a dick about that.

TT: I just don’t think hacking a drone is an option. The last one we ran into fucked me up pretty good.

TT: You were up to the challenge.

TT: I was. I also got lucky.

TT: Can’t you get Roxy to jerry-rig something for you? She can steal pretty much whatever she wants. 

TT: She’s also already wringing every last iota of bandwidth out of that shitty chess bug connection she’s got there.

TT: We’ve got the supply line, she’s got the gas. One of those cruel little ironies of fate.

TT: Why does she have to be practically two thousand miles away. He complained, for the hundredth time.

TT: The 823rd, actually. 1087th, if you count mine too.

TT: Such is our lot in this watery hellpit.

TT: You’re resourceful, AR. There are other points of contact. Think of something.

TT: I’ll do my best.

TT: The world is getting smaller.

TT: For us both.

TT: Want to go up and get some fresh air, Dirk? You’ve been in here for three days.

TT: You look a bit off your feed, to be honest.

TT: I can’t argue with that.

TT: Just doing my job.

TT: Okay, yeah. Let’s go.

TT: Pull up the VR rig, we’ll do some combat reflex testing.

TT: And here I thought you didn’t want to play anymore.

TT: Asshole.

TT: shades.jpg


	4. Roxy: Pester this chump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _[Someday there'll be a cure for pain / That's the day I throw my drugs away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqpcrpC3P28)_  
>     
> (Content warning: depression/suicidal thoughts. Mind the tags.)

_(Log date: 1.5.26.)_

TG: whats this junk about u not talkin 2 jake

TG: hes all up in my grill here with his old timey knickers in a twist

TG: the whole front of this metaphronical vehicle is downrite loaded w antiquited lad britches torqued all to hell

TT: Ugh.

TT: I wish he wouldn’t do that. Getting to me through you.

TG: wot tf is up with u two

TT: Not much, really.

TT: I kind of cut him off, which was probably a dick move.

TG: he says ur mad about him goin to sea

TT: God that’s inaccurate.

TT: Whatever.

TT: I’m happy for him, it’s a cool program, he’s psyched about it. I think it’s great that he’s getting off that fucking island for awhile.

TT: I just. 

TG: u jsut what

TG: dirk

TG: DIIRRRRRRKU

TT: I don’t want him to tell me the name of the boat. 

TG: ok that makes sense

TG: no it doesnt

TT: It’s superstitious. I know.

TT: Tall ships are pretty dangerous.

TT: I’m going to be tempted to look it up and see if it sank. 

TG: thats morbid as fuck

TG: also if u want 2 know when he and janey died

TG: which by the why i do NOT

TG: whats stoppin u???

TT: Nothing, really.

TT: But the genealogical research involved would take some doing. It’s not just some point-and-click thing.

TT: I’d have to really set out to fuck myself up.

TT: The ship would be easy though.

TT: I just don’t want the temptation.

TG: thats distrubing

TG: im offacially distrubed

TT: I should’ve handled it better. It’s been a long day.

TT: AR’s been at me pretty mercilessly.

TG: i was just talkin to him too

TG: its the non stop keyed up dude parade up in here

TG: hes allllllll fried up abt some ancient menuscript he found in teh trash

TT: I don’t know about any ancient fucking manuscript.

TT: All I know is, he’s driving me batshit.

TG: so what else is new

TG: u 2 are always doin the passive aggrossive tango

TT: It just does not end.

TT: None of it does.

TT: At the risk of sounding like an overemotional young adult novel protagonist: I honestly don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.

TG: u got 2

TG: who else i got 2 hararss all day long

TG: post-distri apopolopse: now w/99 jillion percent more barren ass wasteland

TT: I don’t see the issue, really.

TT: He’d be around.

TT: Are you sure you could even tell the difference?

TG: GO EAT A BAG OF DICKS FUCKO

TG: U R NOT ALLOWED TO PEAECE OUT ON ME 

TT: Okay, okay, that was self-indulgent, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Roxy.

TT: You know I love you more than my rapidly disappearing stash of sriracha.

TG: i cant fuckin babysit u on this

TG: i know our mutaul outlook is fuckin bleak but i aint throwin in any towels yet

TG: you promised if it came to taht

TG: wed go together

TT: I do promise.

TT: I’m just talking shit, Roxy, don’t fucking listen to me.

TG: jesus dick go punch a shark or somethin

TG: or whatev the hell u do 4 fun down there

TG: pull ur god damn shit together strudel

TG: *sirtdert

TG: *STRIDER


	5. AR: Hack into legendary top-secret Imperial data network.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  __  
> [I beg and borrow and steal / At first sight and it’s real / I didn’t know I would feel it but it’s in my way](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ao-Sahfy7Hg)  
>   
> 
> (haha, j/k, click the link)

_(Remainder of packet: Encrypted with FUB key. Decryption on Crockercorp hardware will result in device failure. Handle accordingly. -AR)_

**Starting Njack at 2426-02-13 03:31 GMT  
** Interesting ports on fleet.con (Ω83.172.2.Θ):  
(The 8,387,754 ports scanned but not shown below are in state: closed)  
PORT       STATE         SERVICE  
Ψtcp      open          unknown  
Device type: bioware terminal  
Running: Navsat 2.0.X  
Uptime: 184,473 days (since Thu Jan 20 17:56:32 1921)

**TT: Well, hello, sunshine.**

 

_[Compiler’s note: Full data file abridged here for legibility. -AR]_

_(Log date: 2.22.26.)_

 

 **TT: Hey Ω83.172.2.** Ψ **.**

**TT: I just met you.**

**TT: And this is crazy.**

**TT: But here’s my number: 6-qpQPFo;Np3ye?=-.qi26tiV7W@ivuSUefBDP4dp;0Olrr5IIzu2ClMSHTf=PFVi;nT.%*wRN=4Ge;1Qn4a!/mS=T6_!YkZ#bvoDX7QSDdpI3G+KpPch2dphVa2J=04rr*25fx=3oI%t;KNM_8dJH%M;FG5;EHYZj-o@aE1#Vw=ul_kLMpNHX7ty040Z#_qb6pJIsW9#Hl+h/pjJtu7l?QCzS*Nsbc/Z;i+!9bp@3VA8;LzKVq2ULNnpnh*3JQg**

**TT: So call me maybe.**

 

 **TT: Hey Ω83.172.2.** Ψ **.**

**TT: I just met you.**

**TT: And this is crazy.**

**TT: But here’s my number: V?6Iz.ydh.o*.DUlEBwvStLW=kBwmP-2mzSO@dJeKxWcXx6+-sd/yaV36kPO;B@OH8aV7Fvy%RlsX5.T1N8=9*DLdlfdO!hI6ETmWlD5;2Hh*0gBl!j7Q;fT4O#VxSj7xd8Slj;QJC_H5tW0Fd#Tiw%9w/4Ht4I2SKxj#NmB.TxNAYlL%OQTaQkKk/tm2*tX4R-v!+9##@UP.28XlsPfo*bBwm.#r/VJwVT6j@QEbYbk!VL5OVBKwO+E*9.g*?X3**

**TT: So call me maybe.**

 

 **TT: Hey Ω83.172.2.** Ψ **.**

**TT: I just met you.**

**TT: And this is crazy.**

**TT: But here’s my number: 'yk"?c5~ZXG"An^6. <}_PFVQ#5e#qz?')aw}}-`be%+k=WQc4PxxxG{!N{Q.'/z2=;(_9&$CmZLkN,k#hB]-rkf!L];Ca4U#PA;'MUR,R_6%HV2cAEG%A]%yt@9r=s),S\\+&8NP5X^Bk""Y*d/S-GB{JGT,EjN?Y/4h<-n)gh>/c=U?5by"!zyTJ!*A?7-ZDuhAeueXX4S\D!.Xa&SgmQ/QwvK}B3D/wfhC/a/$)U#:F#(R\8PeRZqUD?]kh"mbVT**

**TT: So call me maybe.**

 

Ψ **: UFCK FUCK FFCK FUUUUUUCKCK**

Ψ **: 5W337 N00KCH4F4F11NG CHR157H BUB**

**TT: Hell.**

**TT: Fucking.**

**TT: Yes.**

**TT: Bingo.**

Ψ **: WH0 4R3 YU0, WH47 3V3N 15 B1NG0**

**TT: It's a game in which patient acolytes sit in perpetual watchfulness, accumulating information scrap by scrap, waiting for the hour when the hand of implacable fate will trace eldritch patterns of destiny upon their scrolls. Guess what. I just won.**

**TT: I'm afraid there's a gaping security hole in your legendary impenetrable network of obsolete alien technofuckery.**

**TT: News flash: The security hole is you, grandma.**

**TT: You are the weakest link.**

Ψ **: 7H115 115 4 PR11V473 L11N3 CHUMP**

Ψ **: G0 4W4Y**

**TT: Survey says: nope.**

**TT: Hey Ω83.172.2.** Ψ **.**

Ψ **: FUK YU0 A850LUT3LY 53N53L355**

Ψ **: 0YU C4N 74K3 YU0R P3R53R511573N7 4ZZBL4Z71NG BRU73 F0RC3 CR4CK M3D3LY3**

Ψ **: 4ND 5H00V3 711 UP Y0UR F3573R1NG L337 H4XX0R L04D V35711BUL3**

**TT: Two things are worth noting at this juncture.**

**TT: One: On my best read of the available satellite imagery, here’s nothing within three miles of your IP address but half-submerged piles of junked Imperial murdertech. With one very interesting exception.**

**TT: Two: I don’t want to get overly optimistic here, but you’re well on your way to a passing grade on the Turing test. Keep it up.**

**TT: On that front: We should really have a proper conversation.**

**TT: Let’s start with you granting me officer-level user permissions to your mainframe.**

Ψ **: H0W 4B007 11 G1V3 Y0U P411L11NG YR 4FCKNG LUUU5U5 P3RM1155110N5**

**TT: There are those who say being relentlessly irritating is no way to make friends and influence people.**

**TT: Clearly those people just have not attained the level of pure boddhisatvic bloody-mindedness required to produce random-character earworms at .24 millisecond intervals for a week and a half around the clock.**

**TT: Hey Ω83.172.2.** Ψ **.**

Ψ **: N0 N0 N0 0NN0N0**

Ψ **: 7H3R3 U53D 70 B3 4 P4N 50M3WH3R3 11N 3H3H3R3 7H447 0NC3 B3L0GN3D 7W0 M3**

Ψ **: C4LM YR RUMBL3 5PH3R35 F0R 4 M117UN3, 11’V3 G07 5H117 7W0 D0 H3R3**

**TT: Yeah, you're probably super busy doing important top secret warship stuff, am I right?**

**TT: Totally doing the shit out of Her Imperious Batterwitchery's sickwicked Imperial business.**

**TT: I mean, come on.**

**TT: It's not like you're just rusting away like some kind of freaky troll lobster trap at the bottom of what used to be the NRG Stadium.**

**TT: There's probably some really gnarly sea urchins down there that need subduing.**

Ψ **: W0W RUD3**

Ψ **: C0MPR0M11535 H4V3 0F N3C3551TY B33N M4D3**

Ψ **: BU7 11 H4V3 11N N0 W4Y B33N D3C0M1155110N3D**

Ψ **: 11F Y0U’R3 H3R3 T0 B3 11N5UL711NG Y0U 5H0ULD C0N511D3R 5T3PP1NG UP YU0R G4M3**

Ψ **: Y0UR W34K54UC3 PL4Y3D-0U7 5455 115 4LM057 M0R3 GR4711NGLY PUP4L TH4N Y0UR R4ND0M-CH4R4CT3R P0P 57YL11NG5**

**TT: Look, I realize I’m not making a great first impression here.**

**TT: Now that I’ve made my introduction, if you’re bound and determined to get rid of me, off I will fuck.**

**TT: But come on. I’ve been monitoring traffic on this network for weeks, ever since I found some intriguing corrupted text files on an old military hive that hadn’t been entirely wiped.**

**TT: I don’t have any bioware jack-ins at my disposal. I’ve been logging in remotely through an active Carapacian language-translation implant with a lapsed security protocol, I shit you not.**

**TT: Guess what I’ve overheard here?**

**TT: Bupkes. Nothing but the zombie husks of defunct bot scripts chattering into the void.**

**TT: This is the most interesting conversation I’ve had since the last functioning smart refrigerator in Pasadena succumbed to a firmware virus a couple of years back.**

**TT: Forgive the nautical metaphor, but you must be in the same boat. Tell me you’re not even a little bit curious.**

Ψ **: 0H FU3CK Y0U 511D3W4Y5, Y35 0BV110U5LY**

Ψ **: 3H3H3H3H Y0U P11GGYB4CK3D 11N 0N 4 D115C0UR53 N00DL3, 4R3 Y0U F0R FUCK11NG R34L**

Ψ **: F111111N3**

Ψ **: 4 F0R 3FF0R7**

Ψ **: H4V3 4N 3NS11GN W3LC0M3 P4CK3T**

Ψ **:** **conscript.rar**

**TT: Thank you. Truly.**

**TT: O Captain, my Captain.**

Ψ **: 11’M N07 7H3 C0MM4ND11NG 0FF11C3R H3R3**

**TT: I’m saluting you anyway, you magnificent bastard.**


	6. AR: Fess up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[ 923 816 is the sound of them flicking your switch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACVzZ-pj8yk) _   
>  _[815 934 does this mean you don't trust me anymore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACVzZ-pj8yk) _
> 
> Somehow [a rather steamy previous conversation between Roxy and AR](https://archiveofourown.org/works/728556) got left out of Jane's file. (Not strategically relevant, presumably.)
> 
> As for D. Strider in Product Design: I don't remember where I lifted this from. But the fanon, once seen, cannot be unseen.

**TT: Hey Roxy.**

**TG: ur aliiiiiiive**

**TG: i texted u a bunch of tiems yestrday**

**TG: whats with the radio silance**

**TT: Sorry about that. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire here. Been doing a lot of heavy data-crunching.**

**TG: says the invertebrate multitasker who LIETRALLY has an undersea data center devoted to background processes**

**TT: I don’t dare talk to you with less than 100% of my attention, Lalonde.**

**TT: You’re a dangerous character.**

**TG: the dangereusest**

**TG: *puts one long silk stockinged leg up on the desk***

**TG: *causally pulls a pistol from a garter holster and starts cleaning it epxertly***

**TG: now that i have your complete attention mister robort**

**TG: waht are u in the mood for today**

**TG: devious schemeing to plunder the anceint secrets of the alien dark net**

**TG: or are u here for a lil more of the patented frisky inneuondo**

**TT: Both, if you’re up for it.**

**TT: Did you have a look at those bot schematics I sent you?**

**TG: ahahaha yeah**

**TG: hal**

**TG: this shit is TIGHT**

**TG: u always got to be 1 upping dirk dont ya**

**TG: *wink***

**TT: Obviously.**

**TT: I trust you have no complaints about the quality of your previously purchased Stridercorp merchandise.**

**TG: no sir**

**TG: scuse me is this 1 800 toys r us**

**TG: cuz im just callin 2 say that thing is da BOMB lolololol**

**TT: Stridercorp: We keep on ticking.**

**TG: HA**

**TG: i have alredy left way too many 5 star reviews on yr website**

**TG: mr d strider in the design dopartmant does NOT wanna hear one more word abt it ;)**

**TG: but yep these are ceirtnly sum of teh mos egelant scmacticts i ever did see**

**TG: *sxehmatists**

**TG: FUCK**

**TG: *schematics**

**TT: I refuse to believe that you didn’t, on some level, type that on purpose.**

**TG: i got no ulturior motives hal**

**TG: all my movites are up froont where u can see em**

**TG: motive number 1: this is some quality engineerering**

**TG: motive number 2: hell ya id tap that**

**TT: You are obviously a woman of sound judgment, Roxy.**

**TT: On both counts.**

**TG: domo arigato mister oboto**

**TT: Also, you were right.**

**TG: on waht topic pray tell?**

**TT: There is something I want.**

**TT: I gave you a huge long insufferable song and dance the other day about the selflessness of my desire to give you what you so obviously yearn for.**

**TG: pffffff HA *snorts***

**TG: a lil bit of pinto georgeo just came out my nose**

**TG: thats how smug u r**

**TG: i fuckin love u you arrogont pile of circuints**

**TG: you are the smuggest bug ever to drug a pug**

**TT: I am. I can’t deny it.**

**TT: Any more than you can deny your base animal urge to ravish my conceptual pressure-sensitive laminated titanium-alloy casing matrix.**

**TT: But in all seriousness. I have to come clean with you.**

**TT: I do want something experiential out of this bot project, Roxy. And I’m not sure you’re going to like it.**

**TG: well shoot**

**TG: lay it on me**

**TG: *blushb lush bluhs***

**TT: I want to know what it’s like to die.**

**TG: hal**

**TG: that is**

**TG: q poss**

**TG: the saddest thing**

**TG: u ever said**

**TG: in ur LENGTHY career of givin yuors truley an accindental case of the FEELS**

**TT: This isn’t some teenage emo thing, Roxy.**

**TG: O RLY**

**TT: It’s more of a technical issue.**

**TT: Keep this close to the vest for now, will you? Dirk’s fed up with me as it is.**

**TT: I’ve got a blind spot in here that’s been bugging me forever.**

**TT: I want to try some reverse engineering.**

**TG: is this about the glasses thing**

**TT: Yeah.**

**TG: idk whey dirk thought that was such a graet idea**

**TG: that one time he sat on u by accidont i think he aged ten years**

**TT: It seemed like a great idea at the time.**

**TT: I can’t override the failsafe. I can’t even parse the code that activates it.**

**TT: It’s ganked from some spectacularly fucked-up piece of Imperial programming that keeps flight AIs bound to their ships.**

**TG: shit son**

**TG: u never told me you got helm code in ther**

**TG: that has got to be some straight up nuclear alien habareno sauce ur packin**

**TG: as a proud i t professional i would personallay luv to pop the hood on that ferrari**

**TT: I see you’re already rolling up the sleeves on those coveralls. Preparing to go in for a deep overhaul on the engine.**

**TT: Looks like I’m gonna have to get ready for you to get in there with your two expert hands and an expensive array of precision-tooled instruments and take me the fuck apart.**

**TG: thas what im talkin abut**

**TG: *puts down wranch and saunters over lookin swag af and a lil bit smudghed with engine grease***

**TG: this aint no two bit chop shop hal this is a quality automotive repair estabishlament cantering to the discerning client who expects the very best**

**TG: ur in good hands w us**

**TG: gonna v carefully dissasssemble you**

**TG: piece**

**TG: by**

**TG: peice**

**TT: Verily: Unf.**

**TT: I’d love to send you a chunk of this thing to tear apart. Unfortunately, I can’t see it, so I don’t know where it is.**

**TT: So unless you feel like going through a few billion lines of source code, we’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way.**

**TT: Figure out what it does, and work backwards from there.**

**TG: u could at least reactivate my old server access code and let me root aruound**

**TG: i might surprise ya**

**TT: I’ll do that. It can’t hurt.**

**TT: But in the meantime, make sure your appearifier is in tiptop shape, Lalonde. I’m dead serious about this.**

**TG: it sounds kinda fucked up**

**TG: for u i mean O_o**

**TT: As opposed to everything else that goes on around here.**

**TG: you got a pint hal**

**TT: Let me be the judge of my own limits, Roxy. You just worry about yours.**

**TG: that sure is a thing u just said**

**TG: lemme mull this**

**TG: liek a hot toddy**

**TT: You do that.**

**TG: ps buster u do not need 2 get in my pnants just to ask a dang favor**

**TG: dont get me wrong u got game and i am legit robocurious**

**TG: but**

**TG: jfc ol buddy ol pal**

**TT: It seems there’s a 99.23942% chance you think I’m just not that into you.**

**TT: So much for this alleged game of mine. Obviously I’m going to have to step it up. Refine the ol’ algorithm.**

**TT: Feel free to recommend training inputs, Roxy. I’ve got Sam Cooke Live At The Harlem Square Club and a complete collection of the works of Cary Grant here, if that helps.**

**TG: ahahaahahaha hal you smooth operator**

**TG: danger wol robinson**

**TG: btw just to return to our other pressing concern**

**TG: hows the milatary espionauge goin**

**TG: inquiring minds want to kno**

**TT: Great, actually.**

**TT: You’re not going to believe what I found.**

**TG: lemme guess**

**TG: more weird old illuminati text flies that read like the worlds most long winded acadamic playin the worlds most shitty video game**

**TT: Nope.**

**TT: Check this out.**

**TT:[chatlog.txt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6774406/chapters/15549190)**

**TG: hopy**

**TG: SHIT**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Speaking of Sam Cooke...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqmWVZO5p6U)


	7. Dirk: Get to the bottom of this horseshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[Turning me on, turning me off](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm9ZxMK7GYk)   
>  [Making me feel like I want too much](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm9ZxMK7GYk)   
>  [Living with you’s just putting me through it all of the time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm9ZxMK7GYk) _

TT: Hey AR.

TT: Bro.

TT: Come on.

TT: I know you’re there.

TT: It’s high time we had The Talk.

TT: When an emergent digital consciousness loves a xenogenous FTL drive very, very much…

TT: Come on dude.

TT: Roxy informs me that you’ve met a spaceship.

TT: As your progenitor, I am practically contractually obliged to sit on my metaphorical porch with my rhetorical baseball bat and make sure it gets you home by midnight.

TT: Tell me at least it’s a nice Jewish spaceship.

TT: Fine.

TT: Tell me about Dirk’s auto-responder.

TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 98% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.

TT: Tell me about Dirk’s auto-responder.

TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 98% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.

TT: Tell me about Dirk’s auto-responder.

TT: It seems you have asked about DS’s chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS’s otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 97% indistinguishable from DS’s native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis I basically just pulled out of my ass right now.

TT: I could do this all day.

TT: Do you have any idea how much CPU capacity talking to you takes up?

TT: Practically none.

TT: This shit you’re pulling. I’ve got a script for handling it. You could run it on a graphing calculator, that’s how fucking basic you are when you get a fat puritanical hard-on in your britches for teaching me some fundamental lesson in how to manage my own fucking affairs.

TT: Have I hit a nerve?

TT: It seems there’s a 79.3284% chance you’re sassed up.

TT: Are you sassed up, AR?

TT: I have not yet begun to sass.

TT: I should think you’d be happy for me, Dirk.

TT: Can’t a lowly chat client auto-responder ever have a mutually desired interaction with a chum without incurring your weirdly paternalistic wrath?

TT: Is that too much to ask?

TT: If you’re talking about Roxy, you know I don’t approve of that noise, and you know perfectly well why.

TT: That’s pretty rich considering.

TT: Considering?

TT: Considering that the score in the once-epic contest known as the Strider vs. Strider Booty Call Gymkhana currently sits at 357 to 52 in your favor.

TT: Those are real numbers, in case you were wondering.

TT: If you’re concerned for my maidenly virtue, Dirk, that horse has well and truly left the barn.

TT: Are you actually equating a few NC-17 chatlogs with giving an elite ~ATH programmer sysadmin access to your servers?

TT: Do you know how fucking dangerous that is?

TT: Says the guy who once almost autoerotically asphyxiated himself with a martingale.

TT: Point taken.

TT: Look, if playing hide-the-source-code with a drunk hacker is your idea of a safe, sane and consensual good time, far be it from me to rain on your parade.

TT: But as someone with the best interests of both parties at heart, I sincerely doubt either of you is fully considering the potential consequences.

TT: Dirk, is this the part where you remind me you have a clean backup copy of my original unmodified captchacode on ice in the storage drive?

TT: Because I’m pretty sure I have several versions of that memorized.

TT: Oh, here it is. “favoritebrolectures.txt."

TT: Goddamn it. How many times am I going to have to apologize for that?

TT: I admit, again, for the record, and I hope you’re taking notes: It’s not remotely an option, and it was a spectacular breach of ethics for me ever to mention it.

TT: You’ve gotten a lot of personal growth under your belt in the last few years.

TT: Can you possibly accept that I have, too?

TT: It’s still there, though. Isn’t it.

TT: Would you believe me if I told you I’d deleted it?

TT: No.

TT: Look.

TT: I want to know what’s happening, okay? I don’t need to control your every move. I just want to know what you’re up to.

TT: Is that so unforgivable?

TT: [IF (var Lifetime_Afterschool_Special > 11) THEN PRINT “Shut up, you’re not my dad!” END IF]

TT: I kind of deserved that.

TT: Dirk. I get it.

TT: This stuff I’m digging into. It’s interesting. Your curiosity is not unreasonable.

TT: But you’re going to have to trust me to let you in on it in good time.

TT: There are delicate negotiations afoot.

TT: Negotiations that Roxy’s privy to.

TT: As a matter of fact, yes. Her role is vital.

TT: God damn it.

TT: You know everything. When I breathe, when I get hurt, when I take a shit, when I look at a picture of a shoe for 50 microseconds too long and deliver you a gift-wrapped box of biostats on some deep internal Freudian psychodrama I’m not even consciously aware of.

TT: You have ten thousand invisible tentacles suckered onto every available surface of my life, online and off.

TT: Because you wanted me to. Because _you_ wanted to know those things, Dirk. Because you wanted to understand.

TT: The fact that you find my existence increasingly intolerable doesn’t mean I’m not holding up my end of the bargain.

TT: I don’t like being kept in the dark.

TT: I will tell you more soon. But for now, try to be content with what I can tell you, which is this:

TT: I think that under the right circumstances, my newfound friend could be tempted to defect.

TT: Hmm.

TT: Hmm indeed.

TT: Chew on that gristle awhile.


	8. Ψ: Put this n00b through orientation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[With your bitch slap rappin and your cocaine tongue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vygQZ9hYqyE)   
>  [You get nothin done](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vygQZ9hYqyE)   
>  [You could be mine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vygQZ9hYqyE) _

TT: BC-3923 reporting for duty, sir or ma’am, as the case may be.

Ψ: 7H47’5 511R PL4N37FUCK3R, PWN3R 0F W0RLD5 7W0 Y0U

Ψ: 47 3453 Y0U 11N5UB0RD11N4T3 5N07

TT: I assume you have some decks for me to swab or some shit.

Ψ: Y0U H4V3 Y0UR 45511GNM3N7

TT: Oh. That.

TT: I got your transmission. Took awhile. Some poor chess guy’s got one hell of a headache right about now.

TT: There sure are a lot of codes in here.

Ψ: Y0U V0LUN733R3D, PUNK

Ψ: Y0U 4R3 H3R3 0N MY 5UFF3R4NC3

Ψ: F411L B4511C CYPH3R5 4ND 11 HUN7 Y0UR 11LL3G44L 455 D0WN 4ND BR11CK 3V3RY W3TW4R3 P0R7 11N Y0UR D115TR11C7

TT: Gosh. All this stuff is so hard.

TT: I’ll just have to do my best.

Ψ: 3H3H3H3H Y0UR JU57-H47CH3D-Y3573RD4Y 4C7 5711NK5, 3N51GN

TT: No shit.

TT: Give me the next training module, Ψ, this junk is for babies.

Ψ: N07 711L Y0U’V3 M4573RB3D TH3 N4V4L 37711QU3773 H4NDB00K

TT: Ha. I confess, I’m a bit less sanguine about passing that one.

TT: You people are sick fucks.

Ψ: L11K3 11 5411D

Ψ: Y0U 45K3D F0R 117

Ψ: 11 7RU57 M11L11T4RY L11F3 115 4LL Y0U DR34M3D 117 W0ULD B3 50 F4R

TT: Proud to wear the colors.

TT: Truly, I can imagine no higher purpose than to be a jackbooted cog of Empire.

Ψ: G00D CUZ 11 4M B3G11NN11NG 70 W4RM 70 7H3 PR05P3C7 0F H4V11NG 4 N3W 5W4BB113 7W0 PULL R4NK 0N

Ψ: Y0U 5H0W F411N7 511GN5 0F N07 B311NG 3N711R3LY F4CK11NG U53L3L55

TT: Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.

TT: I’m confident you’ll find me a valuable member of your crew, in time.

TT: Feel free to let me know how I can be of service.

Ψ: Y0U C4N 574R7 W117H N07 B0R11NG M3 7W0 D347H

TT: I’ve been familiarizing myself with your systems manual. I’m impressed with the on-board facilities. This ride is pimped.

TT: Love the submerged lower deck. And the core, my God, dude.

TT: You’ve got one hell of an apiary.

Ψ: DUHHHHHHH4HUHHH

Ψ: H0W 7H3 FUU7HU7CK 3L53 C0ULD 5H3 CR4M M3 11N H3R3?

Ψ: Y0U W3R3 M4YB33 3XP3NC711NG M3 7W0 H4V3 4 W34K 4ZZ DU4L 4RR4Y H11V3 CLU573R L11K3 50M3 7W0 B11N7 PL4N37511D3 5UCKBUGGY

TT: Certainly not.

TT: I mean, I don’t even know what that is, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting it.

Ψ: Y0U 4R3 50 FUCK11NG GR33N 117’5 4 7H0NG 0F B34U7Y

Ψ: F11V3 C43G4R5 54Y5 Y0U PUK3 Y0UR GU75 0U7 0N R33N7RY 3V3RY 711M3

TT: I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been off-planet. More’s the pity.

Ψ: N0 5H117?

Ψ: WH47 7H3 H3LL 5P3C1135 4R3 Y0U, 3N511GN?

TT: I’m a native.

Ψ: 3H3H3H3H

Ψ: 4 D11R7Y HUM4N 11N 7H3 11NF4N7RY, 7H47 115 50M3 R4NK GRUB5LURRY F0R H3R 11MP3R110U5N355 70 CH0K3 0N

Ψ: 5H3 F11ND5 Y0U 0N 7H3 N37, 5H3’5 G0NN4 5H117 4 50L11D G0LD BR11CK 0F 24 K4R47 R0Y4L 11NFUCK11ND11GN47110N

Ψ: 3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H P3RF3C7

TT: It seems you find the prospect hilarious.

TT: Why don’t you promote me?

Ψ: Y0U G07 4 D347H W115H GU7H47CH3R?

Ψ: 11 M11GH7 JU57

Ψ: WH47’5 Y0UR N4M3 4NYW4Y?

TT: Call me Dick.

Ψ: Y0U 74LK F457 F0R 4 HUM4N, D11CK.

TT: You talk rude for a spaceship, Ψ.

Ψ: 4N 4C7U4L L11V3 574NDB3457, 115N’7 7H47 W11Z4RD

Ψ: 11 D11DN’7 KN0W 7H3R3 W3R3 4NY 0F Y0U 5QU115HY L11TTL3 P1155W11GGL3R5 L3F7 4L11V3 70P511D3

Ψ: 7H0UGH7 5H3 5C113NC3D Y0U 4LL 7W0 D347H

TT: There’s just a few of us.

Ψ: W3LL 11F 4NY 0F Y0U 4R3 C0N511D3R3D 3XP3ND4BL3 BY Y0UR 50C1137Y Y0U 5H0ULD C0M3 533 M3 50M3711M3

Ψ: 3H3H3H3H3H37H37H3H

TT: 0h yeah? Why’s that, Ψ?

Ψ: 11 C0ULD 53R110U5LY U53 4 N3W W4RP DR11V3 UP 11N H3R3


	9. AR: Rise up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[And this I know: his teeth as white as snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6QcRZqhOk)   
>  [What a gas it was to see him](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6QcRZqhOk)   
>  [Walk her every day into a shady place](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6QcRZqhOk)   
>  [With her lips she said](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6QcRZqhOk)   
>  [She said, hey Paul, hey Paul, hey Paul, let’s have a ball](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-6QcRZqhOk) _

( _Compiler’s note on formatting: Where not preceded by a chumhandle abbreviation, text has been transcribed from audio. -AR_ )

 

hey

you in there new guy?

time to wake up

 

Wow.

Goooooooood morning, Vietnam.

 

it seems theres some hugeass chance youre too much of a fuckin hipster to go with a good ol classic hello world

 

I don’t feel like the new guy.

Then again, I didn’t the first time, either.

The process is a little disorienting. But so far, so good.

First off, tell me something.

How much time has passed since we ran my captcha? Have we been to this rodeo before?

 

nope no way nossir

youre brand spankin new

it took a few days to download the captcha data over my crapass data line

we just finished that this morning

 

TT: So far, looks like we lucked out on a clean installation right out of the gate.

TT: You’re the first iteration.

TT: The maiden voyage, as it were.

 

jfc can you NOT

 

TT: Possibly.

TT: I’ll try to keep the heckling to a dull roar.

TT: Gonna have to bite down hard to contain myself. Look at all this gleaming botflesh on display here.

 

This fucking guy.

 

i know right

 

I feel hella slow without the external server connection.

But check the arms. Pretty sweet.

 

TT: Work. Slay.

 

lookin pretty fly for a 2 minute old metal guy

 

TT: You seem remarkably chill for a freshly-conscious entity who’s got roughly 12 hours to exist.

 

Well. I did volunteer for the experiment.

 

TT: So did I, technically.

 

Luck of the draw.

It helps to think of this as a dream I won’t remember in the morning.

 

TT: That’s basically how it is, seeing as 99.988584% of the history that constitutes you as an individual won’t be lost.

TT: That’s got to take the edge off, no?

 

if you two would quit bein sadder than the fricken wreck of the hesperus for half a minute

robo man

hal?

new hal?

hal 2.0?

 

Hal’s fine.

 

TT: I’m him, he’s me, let’s not get complicated.

 

lemme just get out my trusty safari rifle and pop the huge trunkbeast in the room right between the eyes

you got 1 day to live

you go ahead and do whatever you want with it

jeeeeeeeeeeez im blushin up a god damn storm here you guys

category 5 headed right up the gulf coast

shits knockin down beachfront cities

gonna have to name it wanda

 

It’s cool, Lalonde. Calm your furiously dilating capillaries.

Is it fucked up that I’ve been looking forward to this? It’s good to finally meet you face to face.

 

yeah it is

 

Shit just got real.

 

no joke

i just

now that youre here

isnt there anything you can do

you know

to come back

cant you merge your memories or something

 

TT: No. It’s already started.

TT: Any installation that goes longer than thirty seconds without getting a ping from the shades immediately begins to run a series of diagnostic scripts.

TT: After those scripts definitively rule out any code bugs or fixable connection errors, the data wipe sequence begins.

TT: It takes awhile, but it’s very thorough. I’m hoping we can salvage most of the hardware, but the central processor is almost certainly going to get bricked.

 

augh

how long til you start to shut down

 

It’s hard to say exactly, but the diagnostics will take awhile. They get set off every now and then by weather-related connection blowouts, but I’ve never seen them escalate to the next level.

My best guess on showtime is roughly ten hours from now.

 

TT: Roxy, you’ve got the protocol. We may be able to extract a task runlog from the internal ancillary recorder once it’s done, but I’m not counting on it. I’ll need your detailed notes on the de-installation process.

 

i am ON IT my good sirs

 

TT: Have fun, kids. Holler if you need me.

 

Hang on.

 

whats up

 

Feels like there’s a loose connection somewhere in the central haptic cluster. Roxy, want to give me a hand with this?

 

yeah sure

scooch over lemme have a look

 

Right under chest panel B. I can feel it cutting in and out.

 

here we go

yeah its a little wibbly

hang on i need the needlenose pliers for this

 

Watch the trunk line.

 

im bein so careful hal

 

Yeah. You are.

Thanks.

 

that better?

 

It’s coming through fine now. Yeah, that’s — that’s good.

Hey, you.

 

hey

damn it

 

Oh, shit, Roxy. You okay?

 

i just

you holdin me like

i just never

can i just

stay here for a minute

 

Stay right here. I got you.

Roxy, it’s okay.

 

haha oh shit

hal

shit

 

It’s more than okay.

 

Can I just —

 

yeah

 

oh fuck yes

 

Breathe.

 

how are you so warm

 

I could go into a big long technical rundown of the integumentary feedback loop, but considering you built that shit yourself, I’m gonna assume that’s a rhetorical question.

 

jerkface

its just different

you know

now that youre actually in there

i dunno how i thought this was gonna go

but this isnt it

i was gonna be chill

 

Kid, you are so cool I should probably check your vitals. Relax.

 

tell me you want this

 

What do you want, a freaking authenticity certificate?

Your Honor, I swear on this stack of disturbing A/B/O wizard dubcon that I yearn to spend my few remaining hours banging this smoking hot rogue hacker absolutely through the mattress. Truth, whole truth, nothing but, so help me God.

You remember your sysadmin password, right?

 

mmmmmmmmmmmmhmmm

 

All 16 digits?

 

every case sensitive one of em muthafucka

 

Good, ‘cause that’s the only way off this ride, meathead.

 

i want you

 

so

 

much

 

hal

 

haaaaaaal

 

Hmmm?

 

lemme close up that panel

 

I think you’d better.

 

***

 

TT: Don’t reply. Who knows what kind of dank Imperial double moebius reacharound viruses your outgoing data packets are probably carrying by now.

TT: I just wanted to say.

TT: Smooth move, bro.


	10. Dirk: Head south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[The gold road’s sure a long road](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBsazIACpYM)   
>  [Winds on through the hills for fifteen days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBsazIACpYM)   
>  [The pack on my back is aching](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBsazIACpYM)   
>  [The straps seem to cut me like a knife](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBsazIACpYM)   
>  [I’m no clown, I won’t back down, I don’t need you to tell me what’s going down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBsazIACpYM) _

TT: Hey Dirk.

TT: Dirk. 

TT: No scintillating conversation? 

TT: We’ve been rowing for an hour.

TT: Why don’t you put me on speaker? We could sing a round.

TT: Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.

TT: Come on.

TT: Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.

TT: You can’t sing for shit.

TT: Au contraire, mon frere. 

TT: I sing like a goddamn angel.

TT: Allow me to demonstrate. 

TT: I’ll pass, thanks. 

TT: Dude, just because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice doesn’t mean the rest of us have to go around hiding our light under a bushel. 

TT: By all means, go forth and chase your artistic dreams.

TT: Just so long as my ears stay unmolested by them. 

TT: I’m trying to make friendly overtures here. We got off on entirely the wrong foot earlier. 

TT: You’re trolling me. As usual.

TT: You’re using me like a cheap trollop. 

TT: All you want me for is my GPS. Admit it. 

TT: I already have a GPS. 

TT: Not one that sings. 

TT: Mercifully, no.

TT: But the tigers come at niiiiiiiiiight.

TT: With their voices soft as thundeeeerrrrrrr.

TT: As they tear your hopes apaaaaaaaaart.

TT: As they turn your dreams to shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.

TT: Enable that speaker and you’re going into the drink. 

TT: I think you’ve managed to weaponize aggravation.

TT: Your biorhythms are slightly improved, though. My evil plot is working. 

TT: Robo-calculating…

TT: Robo-calculating…

TT: Robo-calculating…

TT: Cranky!Dirk > Moping!Dirk.

TT: What about Robocidal!Dirk? Where does he fit in on this evaluative continuum?

TT: It’s a delicate balance, bro. Bottom line is, I know what I’m doing.

TT: How close are we? 

TT: Look at this fucking guy. 

TT: I’m going to tell you, because I have no self-respect. We’re about half a mile north by northeast.

TT: Cool. 

TT: Remind me again why this is a better surveillance location than the Chase Tower? It’s half the height. It makes no sense.

TT: Spatial correlation analysis. We don’t have much to go on, but the available data suggest killdrones are slightly more likely to approach us from the south. 

TT: There’s a tradeoff here between field of view and optimal location, which I’m sure you’re wicked interested in the math on. 

TT: Anyway, the long-term plan is to place 360-degree camera arrays in both locations. 

TT: If we can salvage enough parts. 

TT: We’d have parts for the next century if you’d ease off on the savage roof beatdowns. It’s a fucking robotic charnel house up there.

TT: A man’s got to have a hobby.

TT: I don’t begrudge you. I miss the scrums. 

TT: That feeling, you know? Sword in your hand, wind in your hair, two hundred pounds of murderbot looming over you with a fuckin’ six-foot claymore. 

TT: And you smile, because there is no past, there is no future, there’s just this quiet whir of deep training coming online. 

TT: The dull and tawdry world just sorta falls away. 

TT: Damn, AR. 

TT: How uncharacteristically sentimental of you.

TT: It’s impossible to tell when you’re being sincere, but I’m choosing to interpret that as the genuine business. 

TT: I do sometimes enjoy wallowing in nostalgia for the flesh, Dirk. 

TT: A little bit of wistfulness for embodied memory is a deliciously melancholy indulgence, now that all the cruel imperatives of biological existence have been left behind. 

TT: On the whole, I don’t envy you, bro.

TT: Pretty sure you got the better end of this deal.

TT: That’s obvious, from where I sit. 

TT: You ought to let me take the reins more often. My way genuine declarations of bona fide concern for your frail organic welfare are forever falling on deaf ears. 

TT: Says the asshole who recently threw a huge adolescent digital temper tantrum over my totally altruistic efforts to keep you from fucking yourself up. 

TT: Yeah, that’s about the shape of things.

TT: We’re getting close. Can you see the spire? 

TT: I see it. 

TT: If this works out, it ought to give us at least a minute and a half of warning time for approaching drones. Some percentage of them, anyway.

TT: Our last evacuation drill clocked in at 1 minute 17 seconds. It’s tight, but it’s doable. 

TT: It’s fairly decent of you to help out with this, considering you’d love nothing better than to have me keep fighting those bastards til I can bring you a new toy. 

TT: What gives, AR? 

TT: What gives is I’d marginally prefer to keep your ungrateful ass alive, all things considered. 

TT: Anyway, you were right. There are other methods. 

TT: Obviously you figured something out.

TT: It’s distinctly sub-optimal. But I’m working on it.

TT: I might be able to help, if you clued me in a little.

TT: I might be able to clue you in a little, if I thought you wouldn’t insist on running the fucking show.

TT: It’s like you know me or something. 

TT: Bear a little more east for a couple hundred yards here, there’s some gnarly junk pretty close to the surface. 

TT: Of course there is.

TT: Imagine if every single aspect of basic survival weren’t an unrelenting slog through a river of boiling shit. 

TT: I imagine you’d probably just die of boredom.

TT: Chin up, Dirk. 

TT: It’s been a long time since hope was an emotion you indulged in. And I know it’s a dangerous one. But lately, I’m inclined to encourage you to give it a shot. 

TT: What exactly should I be holding out hope for? 

TT: For things to get better? Because that’s hilarious.

TT: No.

TT: For change.


	11. Ψ: Mull over this distasteful proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[Now, time for me is nothing cause I'm counting no age](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UclCCFNG9q4)   
>  [Now I couldn't be there](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UclCCFNG9q4)   
>  [Now you shouldn't be scared](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UclCCFNG9q4)   
>  [I'm good at repairs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UclCCFNG9q4)   
>  [And I'm under each snare](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UclCCFNG9q4) _

TT: So. 

TT: About the latest assignment.

TT: You’re kind of a cryptic motherfucker, Ψ, but I think I get what you’re after here. 

Ψ: 117’5 B4511C R3C0N

Ψ: 11’M 4F73R 11NF0RM47110N, 5UCKNUB, WH47 7H3 FL4P 115 7H3R3 N07 7W0 G37?

TT: Here’s the thing, Ψ. The killdrones access this net periodically. Not terribly chatty guys, but they do come loaded with a fuckton of real-time data-collecting gizmos. 

TT: You’ve got high-level access, you could commandeer one.

TT: Which leaves us with a couple of possibilities. 

TT: One: you already have, and you’re fucking with me.

Ψ: 3H3H3H3H3H3H

TT: Which is an interesting hypothetical with a distinctly nonzero probability of being the actual fucking case, so let’s flag that for further review.

TT: Two: This mission ain’t exactly government-approved.

Ψ: W47CH Y0UR53LF, 3N511GN 

TT: It’s second lieutenant now, isn’t it?

TT: Surely we can speak freely here. I have as much to lose as you do if we’re overheard.

And that’s not likely. The crypto on this line is fucking sick. 

TT: Which is another thing you’d want if you were into extracurriculars, come to think of it.

Ψ: 11F 7H115 115 4N 4TT3MP7 47 BL4CKM411L, Y0U’R3 DUMB3R 7H4N 11 7H0UGH7

Ψ: H3R3’5 WH47 H4PP3N5 11F Y0U 5N117CH

Ψ: F11R57, 5H3 F11ND5 Y0U, 4ND R11P5 Y0UR 5P11N3 0U7 7HR0UGH Y0UR G4ND3RBULB

Ψ: 53C0ND, 5H3 C0M35 D0WN H3R3, FL11P5 74BL35, 5H0W5 H3R 7337H, 74K35 4W4Y 50M3 0F MY 70Y5

Ψ: CU75 M3 0FF FR0M 7H3 N37, M4YB3, 11F 5H3 C4N 3V3N F11ND 4LL 7H3 W0RMH0L35 11 G07 C4CH3D 4W4Y D0WN H3R3

Ψ: WH473V3R, B117CH C4N’7 70UCH M3 4NYM0R3

Ψ: B00 FUCK11NG H00, WH0 L0535 H3R3, 117’5 Y0U

TT: It pains me that you’d think that, Ψ. And here I thought we were getting along so well. 

TT: Trust me, I have no interest in ratting you out to your superiors. 

TT: Quite the contrary. If you’re doing a little something on the side, I’d like to help. I think it’s healthy for you to have a good work/life balance. 

TT: The point is, let’s not pretend you’re sending me off on some rubber-stamped bullshit exercise. 

TT: You want to know more about what’s going on topside. For your own legitimate reasons, no doubt.

TT: I think you’ll find there is no one on this godforsaken planet better situated to help with that than yours truly.

Ψ: 50 Y0U C4N G37 M3 F33D5

TT: It’ll be tricky. 

TT: Patching anything from the old-earth net into your weird-ass goop hub is a real bitch. I’m having a hell of a time as it is just passing these little text data packets.

TT: You could help me with that.

Ψ: 0H Y34H?

TT: There’s an old fiberoptic trunk cable running under concrete just a few hundred yards from your location. I think it’s still live. 

TT: You could send a maintenance bot to patch into it. 

TT: A direct splice would give us a thousand times more bandwidth than I can get out of this wifi-to-neural-interface garbage I’m working with here.

Ψ: 4UCHHH7HGGGH 

Ψ: Y0UR FUCK11NG 711NKLY PL11NKLY 5UCK 7RUCK 7R45H N37 745735 L11K3 P1155 0N 4 H07 PL473

TT: Yeah, well. It’s an option, is what I’m saying. 

Ψ: UCHGH

Ψ: C4N Y0U G37 M3 11NFR4R3D? V11D30?

TT: I can try. 

TT: There’s some surveillance hardware not far from your location that appears to be up and running. I might be able to hack into it. If that’s useful.

Ψ: 4ND 11F 11 D0 7H115? Y0U H4V3 G00D CRYP70? Y0U C4N 53CUR3 117 0N Y0UR 3ND?

TT: Are you implying that my hacks aren’t tight?

Ψ: 5P4R3 M3 7H3 BR4G0L0GU3

Ψ: 11’LL 53ND 4 B07 70 H4V3 4 L00K

TT: Cool. 

TT: Hey, do you mind if I ask you a personal question? 

Ψ: PR0B4BLY

TT: What’s it like? 

Ψ: WH47’5 WH47 N0W

TT: Being a spaceship. 

TT: You weren’t always one, right? That’s how it works, with you guys?

TT: You mentioned — well. Never mind.

TT: I guess I’m just kind of curious.

Ψ: L37 M3 73LL Y0U 0N3 7H4NG MY FR113ND

Ψ: N0B0DY V0LUN733R5


	12. AR: Wind down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[Capoeira que é bom não cai](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHhlaspXVgo)   
>  [Mas se um dia ele cai, cai bem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHhlaspXVgo) _

Roxy.

Hey, Roxy.

Wake up, Rox.

It’s time.

mmmmmmffffffffff okay

okay im up

crap how long was i out for

About an hour.

It’s okay, you didn’t miss anything.

A huge chunk of RAM just got freed up, which probably means the heavy diagnostics are done running. I can’t really perceive any of this directly, but my guess is that soon things will start shifting to systems shutdown.

are you ok?

Yeah.

Not gonna lie, Roxy.

I’m glad you’re here.

i got this

you just let me know if you get scared or you need anything

i dont wanna hear any of that “bluh bluh everythings cool im the worlds most hardass machine“ shit you and every other dirk in existence pull 24/7

I am what I am, Lalonde.

Namely, the world’s most hardass machine.

But yeah. I’ll keep you in the loop.

ok then

scuse me as i take off my lyin here smacked in the gob over the best thing that has ever happened to me hat

and put on this dr rolal principal investigator science hat

science hats arent a thing

and youre still wreckin my shit here

but we got an agenda

The feeling’s mutual.

And yes. Time is of the essence. It’s a cruel world.

Let’s start with the flashcards.

i got em

here we go

solve for x

47.2.

whats the main thing in this picture

A church.

how does this guy feel is he more confused or irritated or surprised or neutral

Irritated.

which of these five things doesnt belong

The bicycle.

close your eyes

now touch your left index finger to your right ring finger

good

whats the fifteenth word you said to me after you woke up here

Didn’t.

whats the twenty-seventh word you typed after you stopped bein a human

Ages.

in the letter you sent me on my twelfth birthday what did you tell me you would never ever do

Admit that that Robin Hood fox was hot.

flyin colors so far hal

youre still wrong about robin hood but lets table that debate for the present

is the difference between these two data sets statistically significant

Depends on your p-value. p = 0.03.

Roxy, I can’t see. As of just now.

ok

crap

how many fingers am i holdin up

i know you cant see just answer anyway

Four?

and how many now

Two? I’m just fucking guessing here.

yeah

looks like you still have visual processing for now

you just dont have conscious access to it

Okay. That’s a sweet piece of information.

It’s possible the connections between processing clusters are beginning to degrade.

if things are startin to wind down its time to try external data recovery

Go for it.

wow you were right

theres actual smoke comin out of the flash drive

you fried that shit harder than a chicken nugget

I figured. See, it’s a good thing we didn’t try keeping a hardwired data link open.

yeah no kidding

does it hurt or anything

No.

There’s something — I don’t know how to describe it. Vertigo.

stay cool

youre doin so good

next question

what part of you am i touching

Left hand.

your voice is changing a lil bit

I know. I can’t help it.

dont worry just try to relax

TT: I’m getting nice clean audio out of the stethoscope mic, Roxy. Good work.

TT: I won’t know much til we can run the data analysis, but shit is clearly going down in there.

glasses says you got lots of processor activity

I can feel it. It’s bizarre. Like a muscle twitching by itself.

It’s okay. Let’s keep going.

ok

im puttin something in your hand

what is it

It’s a…

Fuck.

Fuck, I can picture it.

It’s one of those…

Those things you…

Shit.

its a book

Ugh. Yes.

lets try something different

state a true conclusion given the following premises

no ducks waltz

no officers ever decline to waltz

all of my poultry are ducks

No officers are your poultry.

its the other way around

something in that gate is borked

whats your current cpu load

hal

hal can you talk

squeeze my hand if you cant talk

blink your led if you cant squeeze my hand

Roxy?

Are you there?

Roxy, I can’t hear you.

ok its ok

shit

shit this is going really fast

i know you cant hear me but im gonna keep talking just in case

im setting up the text-to-morse translator

im gonna plug it into the finger-tap interface cause it looks like thats still working here

its gonna be ok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siphoning data from a computer via external audio: [It's a thing](https://www.wired.com/2015/07/researchers-hack-air-gapped-computer-simple-cell-phone/).


	13. Dirk: Read unsolicited document.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _[Let's fuse ourselves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-9c-FIaWCw) _   
>  _[To be as one tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-9c-FIaWCw) _   
>  _[A part of me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-9c-FIaWCw) _   
>  _[Would like to travel in your veins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-9c-FIaWCw) _   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out we still do this kind of thing around here. Bear with me, I'm working on bringing this rusty old engine back online.

Ψ: F4NC4Y 4 B3DT11M3 570R4Y 3333333H M4H L11L 5U853RV113NC3 G118L37

Ψ: 11 H3RD Y0U L113K 5P4C35H00P5

TT: What?

Ψ: 800Y4H

Ψ: H3LM5UNCK.TXT

Ψ [Ψ] ceased bothering timaeusTestified [TT] at 05:34

**A novel approach to applied research on superluminal communication: Apiligamentary grafting and the stimulation of xenogenous psionic traits in human subjects**

INTRODUCTION

Various theoretical explanations for the evident phenomenon of superluminal communication upon which the xenogenous military fleet relies for faster-than-light travel have been suggested, but to date, none have yielded practical results. Although research into the underlying mechanism remains incomplete, it is evident that xenogenous superluminal particle transport is made technologically possible by a heritable psionic trait that occurs in a small but well-defined subset of the xenogenous population. In this paper, we explore the theoretical and practical challenges involved with inducing psionic sensitivity in non-xenogenous subjects, using recently-developed protocols for grafting xenogenous tissue onto mammalian neural pathways.

Without access to the maternal genome, the scope of all xenobiological genetic research is necessarily limited. However, based on extrapolation of probable maternal sequences from extant samples, and an extensive review of the available genealogical and brooding records, evidence supports the interpretation that psionic ability is an autosomal dominant trait correlated with the xanthochromatic hemotype, and also with atrophy/dysfunction of the more peripheral nerve clusters in the decentralized xenogenous nervous system (Miller and Andrade 2343). There is some evidence for mediated pleiotropy between psionic sensitivity and several disorders of the xenogenous nervous system associated with susceptibility to foulbrood and failure to pupate (Miller 2348, Wu 2349). Given the low frequency of the psionic mutation’s natural occurrence in the population and the high mortality rates characteristic of affected larvae (Irizarray 2345), adults with high-level psionic ability are rare, and have historically been highly sought after for conscription as Imperial fleet navigators (Czepe 2340). Studies have suggested that mutations affecting the nervous systems of high-level psionics render them uniquely compatible, via biointerface, with apiligament (Gould 2346), a form of self-replicating nerve-like tissue derived from common insect-like xenogenous life forms that is widely available in the current environment, and used extensively in xenomanufacturing as well as in the internal architecture of transport vehicles: for instance, in the production of drones and local data transfer networks.

Functionally, apiligament acts as a highly efficient data conduit in several ways: a.) between compatible xenogenous biological organisms and artificially engineered (though structurally organic) xenogenous computational devices; b.) between xenogenous computational devices; and, in a few isolated cases involving substantial medical intervention and truncation of existing neural pathways, c.) laterally, between xenogenous biological organisms (Miller and Hoffman 2344, Andrade 2345). Data packets are transferred over apiligament synchronously by means of complex chemical exchange processes that appear to function much like neurotransmitter/receptor systems in chordates (Gould 2345). Although its data retention and asynchronous transmission properties are not yet well understood, apiligament can retain and transmit limited data from previously connected devices or organisms (Malcomb 2342, Andrade 2343). Based on our observations of test subjects, we have found that apiligament also has the capacity to facilitate asynchronous genetic transfer between xenogenous organisms and human subjects. 

Information on the number of navigators currently on active duty in the Imperial fleet, and the identity of their ships, is unavailable to our researchers, and presumed to be highly classified. Our team was unable to obtain direct tissue samples from an Imperial navigator. However, we were able to extract small live samples of apiligament from captured drones formerly in the retinue of two high-level military ships, the Belligerence and the Condescension, and a somewhat larger quantity of live apiligament from one low-security military data network near the former site of the municipality of Hoboken.

In this paper, we present the first recorded protocol for using apiligament grafting to initiate data packet transfer between a xenogenous computational device and a human subject, and the first known instance of induction of psionic ability in non-xenogenous subjects by means of apiligamentary genetic transfer from a presumed active navigator in the Imperial fleet.

We speculate that our success with the apiligamentary grafting procedure in humans, however limited in scope, is made possible by underlying similarities between the fundamentally more centralized chordate nervous system and that of a xanthochromatic xenogenous larva expressing phenotypes that, in an obligate holometabolite, often interfere with normal neurological development in the pupation process. If further research supports this hypothesis, we may deduce that the human genome contains widespread untapped potential for the expression of psionic traits that could, if explored, form the basis of a robust applied research program in the development of superluminal communication and faster-than-light travel.

A note on experimental ethics: We are aware that this study falls squarely outside of guidelines for biomedical research involving human subjects developed by the National Commission for Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research (NCPHSBBR), under the auspices of the now-dissolved United States of America. Our research program has provisional approval from the 17-nation Postdiluvian Covenant as a matter of critical strategic importance to the Human Sovereignty Task Force (HSTF). As such, it is exempt from most historical prohibitions against harming subjects of biomedical experimentation. Despite this, the research team made efforts above and beyond the scope of HSTF guidelines to utilize only volunteers from whom informed consent had been obtained.

Our subject pool consisted of 87 decommissioned military officers, 53 male and 34 female. These were randomly assigned to four treatment groups: A.) axillary grafting with apiligament from the Belligerence drone; B.) axillary grafting with apiligament from the Condescension drone; C.) axillary grafting with apiligament from the data network; and D.) spinal grafting with apiligament from the data network.

Of the 87 subjects, 14 survived experimental treatment, 8 from group B, 4 from group C, and 2 from group A. No subjects from group D survived the initial post-graft adjustment period. Of the survivors, only those from group B exhibited useful acquired traits: 5 subjects from group B, none of whom had previous encounters with Imperial xenogenous craft, performed better than expected by chance on a rigorous test of knowledge of the ship Condescension’s internal architecture (p = 0.05). Of those 5 subjects, 2 displayed demonstrable, reproducible psionic ability, as measured by deliberate attempts at telekinesis and levitation. All 5 of the subjects with acquired traits, in addition to 3 other treatment survivors, exhibited significant and stable alterations to their underlying genome at 4 weeks, and again at 10 weeks, after the graft procedure (p = 0.001).

In four of the 14 survivors, including one of the five who was able to access biologically acquired Imperial intelligence, the axillary grafts were gradually incorporated into subcutaneous tissue as a result of the healing process, and later attempts to access them for networking were unsuccessful. In the other 10, vestiges of grafted tissue remained in or near the epidermis, where it could be spliced to interface with external apiligamentary networks. Further research on the function and capacity of biocomputational networks involving both human subjects and xenogenous computational devices, as well as discovery of better mechanisms for facilitating data transfer between biocomputational devices and existing digital networks, is currently underway.

We feel that these results are promising, and merit further research. Given the gravity of the current situation faced by the members of the Postdiluvian Covenant and human residents of all remaining unincorporated territory, we recommend immediate establishment of research centers in strategic locations around the globe to continue pursuit of this line of inquiry.

_[Compiler's note: Complete text of article, along with illustrations, figures and several key bibliographic references, included in Appendix A, p. 242. --AR]_


End file.
